there is going to be a flame
by Extrinsical
Summary: "Is it a custom of your people," Cat says in a bored voice when Kara strolls into the office with hands behind the back, "to kiss someone who forgives you and then disappear for a week?"


_**there is going to be a flame**_

One-shot | gotta get up and try | 10, 504 words  
Post-Season 1 Finale.

Notes: Fic begins post-season, with a catch. After Myriad, Non doesn't try to wipe out the humans. Instead, he targets Kara personally..

 _BGM: Try - Tyler Ward._

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1.

The day Kara truly struggles to not break is the day she sees Cat Grant slumped against the wall of her office, a hand pressed to the side of crimson-soaked blouse, as still as death.

All noises have disappeared from her heightened hearing, and the only thing she manages to focus is the scene in front of her.

Blood spreads on the cold marble tiles.

And on the wall, written with Cat's blood, in Kryptonese -

 _This is the price of a traitor, Kara Zor-El._

She can't _breathe_.

Only one person could have done this, she knows. Only one. _Non_.

And now, because of her… because of her… Cat.. Cat is…

She swallows, convulsively, and her legs feels weak, all of a sudden. When she drops to her knees, the loud thud where her knee caps crack against the floor rings in the silence.

Cat. Cat Grant. Her boss. Mentor. Friend.

Cat is dead.

"Ka… ra… "

The name pierces into her ears, where everything had felt muted the moment she stepped into the office.

A pale face, dotted lightly with sweat. Green eyes, alive but fuzzy, fixed on her.

And with her name, noise begins to filter back into her ears, with it a pale, faint heartbeat belonging to the person bleeding by the wall -

Cat Grant is _alive_.

She jerks, and scrambles towards her, uncaring of the fact that she is in Supergirl's outfit, let alone that Cat _should not_ have known she's _Kara_ -

"Ms. Grant," she whispers, and doesn't know how raw and lost she sounds. " _Ms. Grant_."

Cat breathes in shallowly.

Then,

"Supergirl," her mentor murmurs, voice hoarse and pained but still so steady. How is she so calm and unflinching when it is her _life_ teetering on the brink of death?

"You will be okay," Kara forces out, reaching for her phone with trembling hands - Alex, Alex will know what to do - "I promise, Ms. Grant."

And the knowledge that her - her boss, but not really, because Cat's not _just_ her boss, is it? - still lives gives her strength.

Her mind's already racing ahead for what needs to be done in situations like this - pressure on the wound, stop the bleeding, _stop the bleeding_ , and she doesn't even think twice before unbuttoning the soaked shirt with deft fingers to assess the injury, and then freezing _again_ because _there's so much blood_ -

"Kara."

It's as if Cat knows this is the only way to calm the thundering fear that had seeped into her bones.

She jerks, again, at the sound of her name. The first time could've been dismissed as delirium with what happened - but this is the second time Cat called Supergirl _Kara_ and without even a sliver of doubt, so _how long has Cat Grant known?_

Kara refuses to think about it right now, let alone dare to acknowledge it. Instead, she presses a firm hand against the wound - as much as she dares to because she could so easily crush the fragile person before her - and when Cat whimpers in pain at the pressure, apologizing profusely is really all Kara can do because she can't _not_ press on the wound the stop the bleeding _-_

" _Kara?"_ comes from her phone, soft and buzzing to her ears, mute to probably everyone else given that it's not in hands-free mode.

She snaps a glance at it, the phone that she had since dropped to the floor beside them, and can't help but dart her eyes back to Cat briefly. Who doesn't seem to have noticed, eyes shut, concentrated on keeping her breathing steady.

She taps at it with a blood-tipped finger to activate its speakers. The blood smears on the device.

"Alex," she says before the other can say anything else. "It's Supergirl."

There's a split second pause. Kara wonders if her voice had been shaking. _"What happened?"_

"Non..." her jaw clenches. She doesn't look at Cat, not wanting to meet those eyes she can feel is on her right now. "Non came to CatCo. Ms. Grant's injured badly."

She can hear her sister sucking in a sharp breath.

It's like a blur after that. Like she's really there, participating in the conversation, but not really at the same time because her mind keeps getting drawn to the blood in front of her.

Alex promises to be there within a few minutes - the DEO is also rolling out immediately to secure Carter and to place protective details with Adam -

She almost lets herself breathe when she sees relief and lucid understanding crosses Cat's pale expression.

"Thank you," Cat murmurs, words faint, and Kara instantly wants to rage. How could she say that when _she_ is the one who put her in danger because of her enemies?

Amidst the crippling fear and worry and _Ms. Grant_ , something dark and murderous is rising, thrumming in her blood, taking over all her remaining senses.

Because of who she is, of the House of El, of Astra, of the ghost of Krypton projected onto Earth - Non had struck those she had cared about. Non has forgotten the meaning of honor.

This isn't the first time someone close to her had been in danger.

But this is the first time someone she cared for had bled.

And Kara…

Kara is _furious_.

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2.

In a war between titans, one side - maybe even both - are fated to fall.

This is no exception.

Because eventually - _eventually_ \- Kara, Alex, the DEO - even Max, who knows better now after Myriad, who had pitched in his assistance after one of his laboratories was targeted - corners the remaining criminals from Krypton.

But do not forget that cornered titans are the most dangerous of them all, and when they fall, it is the ants below them that gets crushed.

"Stop worrying," Alex breathes out, eyes closed where she's lying down on the bed, and the hand that Kara's clasping gingerly squeezes back gently. "I'm fine."

"Alex," her voice cracks, pressing that lukewarm hand to her forehead. She focuses on listening to the steady heartbeat of her sister's, letting it lull her back into calm.

"Kara."

"Alex," a little bit of strength returns to Kara's voice and she looks back up to glare at her sibling, "you got thrown into a wall. You lost three pints of blood. You broke a leg, and you cracked your _skull_."

"Well," her sister huffs out a pained chuckle. "That's true, but I'm talking to you now, aren't I?"

"They attacked the DEO, Alex." Something hot and furious simmers in her stomach. "Non was going to snap _your neck_ , and if I was late by even a second - "

Her words jerks to a stop. And it's like she's there watching it happen again - her sister, limp and dripping blood on the floor, held up with a hand curled around the throat by her uncle -

It's going to haunt her. It's going to be in her nightmares.

She's never going to be able to forget it.

"Point still stands, Supergirl," Alex says. "And you know this was an act of desperation."

She presses her lips together tightly.

"Kara." Her sister's dark eyes has opened, foggy with drugs but still searching, and is watching her carefully.

A gentle squeeze of hand that does nothing to the anger flowing in her veins.

"He will pay for this, Alex," Kara whispers. She wants Non's blood on her hands. She wants to see the stars disappear from his eyes. She wants Non's soul cursed to forever wander without Rao guiding him back home.

In the span of a week, two people whom she cares for deeply - both who are her support systems - had almost died. Cat, Alex… who's going to be next? Eliza? Kal-El? James? Winn? Hank?

 _Unacceptable._

"Kara," her older sister murmurs again, faint and worried and sad, "don't let Non do this to you."

He will pay.

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3.

But of course he doesn't.

Not in the way Kara originally wanted, that is - because she isn't used to being angry. Her anger is often long to build and to become an inferno, if ever, but so quick to extinguish. Too easily, even, an exasperated and protective Alex had argued a few times.

And even then, her anger had never been borne of hate.

Until it does. She wanted him dead. She _still_ wants him dead. She still wants him cursed and without Rao's blessings. She's still _furious_.

It terrifies her, even more than that time when red kryptonite overtook her senses, because the two people capable of pulling her back had almost died. And if they did, where would she be?

Past the glass panels overlooking the DEO's main control room, people are milling about, deep in discussions or staring at monitors or repairing the destruction caused by the Krypton criminals.

"Isn't this a surprise?" Maxwell asks her from where he stands by the door, except he doesn't seem surprised at all. His gaze is piercing and knowing, with one hand resting inside his pants pocket while the other fiddles with his mini-tablet.

She doesn't want to talk to him. "Don't say anything if you have nothing to say at all."

"Oh, but I do," he says, watching her wash grime and blood off her hands at the sink in the medical room. "I told you, Supergirl - we are alike."

Her eyes cuts to him with an icy glare. "I will never be like you."

"You could have killed him," Max comments, seemingly almost curious. "Why didn't you?"

He says it like she hadn't almost walked right off the edge.

She did break most of his bones. She also came close to snapping his neck. It was - a very close thing. After all, Cat's blood had stained her hands, then Alex's, so what could one more do?

"You have to ask?" Kara focuses back on Max.

"Call it curiosity." He seems almost humored, but she's not even close to being amused. Rage still simmers in her blood, hot and boiling and threatening to explode at the slightest provocation.

So Kara answers, hard but still honest.

"I told you," she says, remembering a face like her own that is cracked and dying, "I'll never be like you."

But she's also remembering what he said about his parents, about the oath he swore - _to act instead of waiting for permission_ \- and, _we are more alike than you think_ -

The very existence of Maxwell Lord and what it _means_ will always stop her from going too far, until there is no more Cat to remind her what it means to be good, and until there is no more Alex to anchor her.

"And yet," Max muses, "You beat him nearly to death. Your dear uncle is still in critical condition, survival not guaranteed. What does that say, Supergirl?"

"As I said," she responds flatly. "Now leave."

That is the truth that even she won't deny to herself.

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4.

Lucy is frowning at her, and telling her in no uncertain terms that the CEO of CatCo is making it very difficult for the security team to guard her from whatever remains of Non's army (that had since scattered and is being witch-hunted), so it falls to Kara to convince Cat that she needs to let them protect her. _Properly_.

Her protest falls on deaf ears - _because why her?_ \- and Lucy shoos her out of the DEO.

So here she is, trying to steel herself for the meeting so badly, because she had been avoiding her boss for the last couple weeks.

"You should be resting," Kara says by way of greeting, red cape fluttering gently behind her as her sole taps down on the private balcony of Cat's bedroom for the first time.

"The world doesn't stop turning just because I'm confined to house rest," green eyes from behind a pair of rimmed glasses looks up from the documents in hand to pierce into her. "Supergirl."

Kara's gaze roams, despite herself, to around the room, flitting over framed photos and neatly arranged items on tables and cupboards before resting on Cat Grant herself.

The older woman is half stretched out on the bed, leaning back against the headrest, documents by her side and on her lap, dressed casually in a light sweater and loose slacks.

Her boss looks more relaxed than Kara has ever seen her be.

A chill settles on her shoulders, for the briefest of a second, because all she sees is blood splattered on Cat again, seeping into the bed sheets, soaking into the documents -

And then it's gone.

She swallows and forces on an expression of calm. "Ms. Grant." A pause; her gaze flickers to the side of Cat's stomach where she knows had been stitched and bandaged. "May I come in?"

"I don't typically leave my balcony door open," Cat says, watching her. _Assessing_. "This isn't CatCo, _Kara_."

It's a silent invitation and reminder all at once. Was Cat expecting her? Kara hesitates for another moment, before stepping past the open door and into the room.

"I thought we are past this," Kara says, even as a familiar scent that she knows belongs to Cat tickles her nose and soothes the tension in her shoulders. "I'm not - "

"I have played long enough with this farce of yours," Cat says firmly, removing her glasses and placing it on the bedside table. "Isn't it about time we give up this pretense?"

"You saw me with her - "

"I also saw Hank Henshaw turn into an alien. And I also saw your look-alike, _Bizarro_. Should I continue?"

Her mouth closes.

Then her shoulders squares.

"That doesn't mean I'm Kara Danvers," she says stubbornly, but even she can feel how weak her argument is. She had wondered, more than a few times, if Cat had known exactly who she is, and wondered why Cat had chosen not to confront her about it.

Until now.

Silence reigns for a long moment as Catjust _looks_ at her, still patient, still calm, but with a gaze that is so very piercing.

"You saved my life at the office, _Kara_." A reminder that she hadn't denied the name while Cat was bleeding to death.

"You lost a lot of blood," she says, almost challengingly. "You were seeing things."

Cat doesn't bite. "Denial, Danvers?"

Silence.

Then Cat huffs, exasperated, tolerance clearly waning. Kara had wondered how long more before her patience would have snapped.

"That's quite enough," Cat says. "I have already signed the documents your sister asked me to."

She freezes.

Cat just stares at her.

When did her sibling and Cat even talk? _What_ did they talk about? "She - you - how - " she sputters.

The look Cat levels at her is both amused and appraising.

"What documents?" Kara finally blurts. " _Why_?"

"To secure my silence," Cat says, seemingly careless. "Unlike you, she wasn't in denial, and she had no qualms about threatening me to protect you even when she's decorated with enough injuries and bandages to look non-threatening."

Her jaw drops. Alex did _what_?

"So as you can see," Cat continues, finally removing the document on her lap to place it on top of the stack by her side. "This charade has run its course, _Kara_."

"I - " her jaw works once, twice, and she looks away from that piercing gaze.

She doesn't know what to say to that.

Silence.

Something - like cloth and papers - rustles, and then Cat is speaking again.

"Do you really trust me that little?" Is the quiet, stoic question.

She jerks as if struck, eyes landing on the older woman again - who - who, sometime during the silence, has stopped leaning against the headrest, and appears to be preparing to stand.

Cat breathes in deeply, once, and plants her hands on her knees to support herself as she gets up - only to stagger the next moment, pressing a hand against the side of her stomach with a grimace.

Kara's immediately alarmed and by her side in a flash, holding her steady with a hand on the lower back and the other grasping the wrist. "Ms. Grant, you shouldn't - "

"I'm not disabled, Supergirl," Kara's hands are batted off as Cat steadies herself, not unkindly, but not gently either.

But it's not working, the younger of them can immediately tell, because there's another flicker of grimace and pain and Kara can't stop herself from pulling Cat back completely into her arms when her mentor staggers again.

Kara shifts, making the other lean against her with arms secured around the waist so that she is taking both their weights. She's wary of the side wound, and it makes her hold that much more careful.

Cat lets out a huff of surprise, her own hands landing reflexively on Kara's forearms - and then she stills in the embrace.

Their gazes meet.

This close, she can see the dark pupils and rings of hazel that hints of green. That will turn a beautiful shade of green, really, in the light. Hazel when the sky is dark, green when the sun shines. It's fascinating.

And in between, like now, when it is evening and the sky is darkening - it's a mix of hazel and green.

There's no one else with eyes quite like Cat's.

And in her arms, Cat is warm and small and feels far too fragile.

"Do you always pick up women this way?" The look Cat levels her with is altogether too appraising, like she _really_ wants to know the answer to that question.

A rush of heat floods into her cheeks, but she doesn't dare let go even when she's feeling very much like bolting away, still too afraid that her boss might fall without support. " _Ms. Grant_."

Cat's lips twitches, and Kara _knows_ that her boss is trying to suppress a rare smile that is going to be absolutely infuriating.

And for one small, wild and terrifying moment, the only thing she manages to focus on is Cat's lips.

Then there's a gentle pat on her forearm - a silent command to let go.

Kara hesitates, but releases her slowly and reluctantly, letting her arms hover in the air as she takes just the smallest step back.

Another steadying breath, and Cat leans back to stand properly, though one of her hands is still wrapped around Kara's forearm for balance.

"You should really be resting, Ms. Grant," she says worriedly.

Cat just waves off her concern. "I've been resting for weeks, Supergirl."

 _And you spent the first week in and out of consciousness,_ Kara wants to argue.

Then, when Cat seems to believe she can stand without assistance - Kara's arm is released with another exhale.

But watching another flicker of pain run past the older woman's expression is all it takes for Kara to grasp at Cat's arm to provide support, not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough to let Cat know she's not budging.

The other hand hovers just behind her boss's back. Just in case.

Cat levels a warning look at her.

Kara sets her jaw stubbornly. "Where do you want to go, Ms. Grant?"

For a moment, Cat just looks at her with a mildly irritated look that's mingled with the barest of amusement and exasperation.

"Always full of surprises," she finally comments, either not noticing or ignoring the sudden flush on her cheeks, and gesturing at the door. "Kitchen. I need a drink. And a walk."

Kara nods, guiding her out the bedroom.

"Where's - " she hesitates. The apartment is silent (and had been since before she arrived), and Kara has a strong feeling Cat had kicked out the nurse and the guard given what Lucy told her. Although, that doesn't mean there's no guards in the vicinity. Even Cat can't really do anything about that. Probably. "Where's Carter?"

"With his father." A pause, and Cat noticeably softens. "I didn't want him to see me like this."

Crushing guilt settles on her shoulders again. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"My - " _uncle_ , Kara almost says, because he's still _family_ , but somehow she manages to stop before it slips out of her mouth. "You got hurt. Because of me."

Hot fury coils in her stomach again at the reminder of what he has done.

Cat doesn't respond, seemingly thinking about… about something, this maybe, and sometime during the silence that falls over them, they arrive at the kitchen.

Kara guides her to the stool by the island table, waiting insistently until the older woman sits with an almost resigned air, then moves to pull out a mug, tea bag - chamomile, Kara decides, it's too late for coffee - and avoids looking at Cat. Who's blatantly staring at her like she's a specimen to be dissected as she putters around the kitchen.

Before long, Kara's placing a mug of chamomile tea, hot, in front of Cat.

Cat's _still_ staring at her with an inscrutable gaze, long enough that it makes her want to bounce on her feet nervously. Which she really shouldn't - she's _Supergirl_ , for god's sake.

"Ms. Grant…?" she asks, hesitantly.

Cat snorts, then picks up the mug to sip at it with a satisfying sigh. She's also pointedly gesturing at the stool next to her, indicating for Kara to take a seat.

Which she does, after another long moment of hesitation, letting her hands rest on her lap. It's that or letting them swing restlessly in the air, really.

"Supergirl," the CEO of CatCo says then with something approaching smug amusement, "if you are trying to convince me you aren't my ex-assistant, you are doing an atrocious job at it."

And then Cat lifts her mug slightly for effect.

Then, _then_ , Kara realizes that her boss had not spoken a word about the beverage she wants, and she had gone on to make exactly what Cat wanted.

And something must have shown on her face, because Cat's actually smirking around the rim of her mug, and Kara just wants to bury her face in her hands.

Just like that, the tension between them lightens (but doesn't disappear), and it's almost easier to breathe now.

Eventually, it's Kara who breaks the silence first. "...You really signed those documents?"

"Do you think I'm lying?" Another sip of tea. " _Kara?_ "

Cat is many things, but never a liar when it comes to things that truly matters.

"No," she pauses, hesitates, an instinctive urge to deny she's _Kara Danvers_ on her lips before she clamps it down guiltily. The quiet accusation of _do you trust me that little?_ still rings in her ears like a slap to the face.

"I just didn't think - " Kara doesn't know how to phrase it without offending her boss. "...I didn't think you would sign non-disclosure forms."

The very passion for truth is in Cat Grant's blood, veins - there is a reason why the media mogul excels at it, after all.

"I did," Cat says simply but doesn't explain.

"Why?" Kara needs to know, because she doesn't believe it's because Alex threatened her. Cat is more likely to retaliate than to retreat when threatened.

"I don't report everything I know, Supergirl." There's a rebuke somewhere in those quiet words, like Kara should know better than to even ask that.

And isn't that the truth?

The part where Maxwell Lord had convinced her to let hundreds and thousands of people die during Myriad before Cat managed to change her mind (and what a headline it could _have been_ ), the nuclear missile that almost hit National City… and, apparently, _her_ _identity_.

There's more, she knows. She has even seen Cat dismiss some of them in favor of other news that are less profitable.

None of them had even come close to making the news, and Kara knows why. She knows, without a single doubt, that Cat will never let them make the news.

She deflates, chastised.

"I'm…" she shuffles, nervous, not even sure where to begin. Or what to say. There's so many questions at the back of her mind, and she's scrambling to grasp at one. "I'm sorry about… about Alex. She didn't - " she pauses, "she didn't say anything bad, did she?"

Cat does snort at that. "Nothing I can't handle. Or wasn't expecting."

Kara really, _really_ wants to know what they talked about. "I'm sorry."

"You still apologize too much, Kara."

"Not Kiera?" she can't resist asking, chewing at her bottom lip, because Cat hasn't misspoken her name all evening.

"You've saved my life more than a few times," Cat says. "And this isn't CatCo," her boss tacks on, a not-too-subtle hint that she's still Kiera when they are in public.

She huffs at that, both amused and exasperated. Typical Cat.

An amiable silence falls over them.

Cat is scrutinizing her with a considering look, like she's trying to phrase what she wants to say correctly. There's nothing harsh or cold in those green eyes. Instead, they are just… _considering_. Almost gentle. Like Kara's a creature too easily spooked, and Cat can't have that happening.

A finger taps noiselessly at the mug of tea.

Kara shifts in her seat, suddenly restless. "...Ms. Grant?"

"Do you believe this to be your fault, Kara?" Cat gestures at herself, gaze piercing.

Immediately blue eyes darts down to the stomach - hidden by the sweater - that holds the evidence of the injury caused by Non. By _Kara_.

Discomfort settles in her stomach again.

She swallows. "I - "

"Before you say anything," Cat cuts in warningly, "think carefully of your answer, Kara."

But what else could she even say? The words painted on the wall with Cat's blood, aimed at her. At _Kara Zor-El._ It was all because of _her_.

"You know it is," she says, focusing her gaze on the slender fingers curled around the mug, and swallows. "And I'm - I'm sorry. You almost - " _died_ , she can't bring herself to say, "you got hurt because of me."

Silence.

Cat's still looking at her, not interrupting, seemingly able to sense she's not done speaking yet.

"Carter and Adam almost lost their mother because of me," Kara says then, so quietly.

There's a pause before Cat speaks, affecting an air of nonchalance. "I was informed that you were brooding like a typical, melodramatic superhero. I see now that Agent Scully was right."

Her jaw drops, gaze darting up to meet Cat's. She sputters. "Alex did not - she wouldn't - I - and I wasn't brooding!"

Cat just raises an elegantly sculpted brow. "Perhaps she didn't say it the way I described," Cat acknowledges. "But Kara?" She gestures at the air between them. "You have already proven me right. Would you have come here if Baby Lane didn't tell you to?"

Kara stares, dumbfounded, remembering Lucy's insistence and the way she ignored her protests. Alex and Cat having a chat without her knowing it. The missing nurse and guard. _It was a scheme_.

"You planned this with my sister." Disbelief plays on her features.

"Again," Cat shrugs off the astonished accusation like it's nothing, "you are proving my point."

Kara's jaw snaps shut at that.

Cat takes another sip again, no longer looking at her but into the mug, as if it contained an entire world of wisdom.

And strangely enough, Kara is reminded of that time when they had discussed anger issues and how to deal with them - or, she supposes, she listened and Cat talked (and ranted).

"You may be Supergirl," Cat says, "but even you have no control over the will of others. You couldn't have known what..." A pause. "...What your enemy was going to do, let alone know he'd come for me."

"But - "

"There is a difference," the older blonde cuts in, green eyes slanting back to her, "between being the reason, and being at fault. Know the difference."

Is there even a difference? If there is, Kara's _not_ seeing it.

Her hands curl into a tight ball. "I - "

"Don't," Cat says firmly.

She sags into her seat and looks at her hands that had since whitened with the strength of her grip.

"I don't know how," is what leaves her mouth with a whisper. And then she presses her lips together tightly, because that's both the truth _and_ not quite what she wants to reveal.

It _is_ her fault, no matter what anyone may say, because she should've seen it happening. She should have expected it, should have stopped it before it even happened… and it makes her furious at herself.

Her eyes close, and it's like she's both too young and too old, all at once, for this. For all of it. There's a weight on her shoulders, one that was born as she watched Krypton explode from its core before her own eyes, and one that has grown since. The promise she made with her parents that she could no longer keep. Kal-El. Jeremiah. Black Mercy. Red kryptonite.

Astra.

And almost, almost - Cat and Alex.

If losing things she care about is a talent, she thinks, it's going to be something she excels at greatly.

It's just all too much.

Then there's a dangerous idea floating in her mind - should she stop caring? Stop trying? Because maybe - just _maybe_ \- people won't get hurt that way.

Humans are so fragile, and she's so tired.

And maybe she will stop losing things that she cares about this way.

The very thought scares and tempts her more than she thought possible.

"Kara." It's spoken so softly like Kara's too fragile for anything else. Like Cat knows that she's really just teetering by the edge of a cliff, and all it takes is just one more push. Warm feather-light fingers brushes against her left cheek.

A stray curl of dark blonde hair is tucked behind her ear.

"Look at me, Kara." Cat tilts her chin up gently.

When it comes to obeying Cat Grant's orders, it's something approaching instinct.

So she does.

Green eyes, clear and bright and inscrutable, searches her own. Kara doesn't know what the media mogul is looking for, only that it feels very much like her soul is out there for the older woman to take.

There's a gentle tap of finger against her cheek now, distracting enough that she grasps Cat's hand to stop it without really realizing what she's doing.

Cat lets her.

As it is, Kara's grip is loose enough that Cat easily curls the same hand around the back of her neck, and then Cat's shifting, moving closer -

There's a soft brush of lips on Kara's forehead, and she's dumbfounded into silence.

"I will only say this once, Kara," Cat murmurs, breath light and warm against her skin. "Because it isn't your fault. But you don't believe that yet."

It's said so simply, with such certainty that she's read Kara correctly, that it makes her swallow. There's also the _yet_ there, and the faith in that one word makes something twist in her chest.

The older woman leans back, the overhead light catches in white-gold hair, and green eyes - warmer and kinder than she has ever seen - stares into her own.

So, so green.

"I forgive you," Cat Grant says. "If that's what you need, I'll forgive you, so you can forgive yourself."

There's a noise of some sort, she thinks it might have come from her throat, because she's suddenly feeling breathless, like an ethereal fist has found its way around her heart, and she shudders.

Her eyes burns, and she's gritting her teeth so tightly she can hear it grinding with her heightened senses. But she can't afford to break. She broke once in the aftermath of red kryptonite, in front of Alex, and she's seen the hurt and pain etched on her sister's face.

She refuses to do it again.

She's Kara Danvers, but she's also _Kara Zor-El_ , highborn and regal and proud.

But Cat has curled both hands around her face gently, watching her with a little frown and something too soft to name, so far from the familiar sharpness and calculative look, and it makes her swallow.

Kara doesn't cry.

But she can't stop herself from reaching out to the person who had been like a constant to her, keeping her calm, grounded, and still is.

Her lips crash down onto Cat's.

There's a noise of surprise, and then.

Cat's kissing her back.

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5.

She's listening to the steady heartbeat belonging to her sister.

Kara's slouching, seated on the uncomfortable chair by the bed, hands limp in the lap. Her eyes are fixed on her sibling who's sleeping peacefully.

Aside from the large cast protecting the broken bone, there's a patch of new skin by the neck, a plaster on the cheek, a bruise by the jaw, a wad of bandages around the head... and Kara knows, there's more hidden under the blanket.

Non did that to her sister.

And Alex is waking now, she can tell, because she can hear the extra thump to the heartbeat belonging to her sister's before it steadies again.

"Why," Alex mumbles sleepily with eyes still closed, "are you sitting down here in the dark like a creeper? I hope you weren't trying to scare me to death, Kara."

She isn't, because she's really only there to listen to her sister breathe. It's something she has taken to doing lately, though this is probably the first time Alex caught her.

And she had been sitting there quietly for the last two hours since she returned, showered and changed; by the bed that Alex had commandeered - or, more accurately, her bed that she made Alex commandeer.

Kara doesn't want Alex out of her sight for too long.

She chews at her bottom lip, folding her arms, and speaks in an ominous voice. "You conspired against me with my boss and Lucy."

Her sibling, the traitor that she is, actually huffs out a chuckle at that.

" _Alex_." She scowls.

"And?" Alex prods, eyes still closed, one corner of her lip ticking up.

"You conspired with my _boss_." So if Kara wants to exact revenge, really, it'd be justified.

"And?" her sibling repeats. "Did she talk sense into you?"

 _I'll forgive you, so you can forgive yourself._

There's also a lingering taste of chamomile on her tongue from hours prior. Heat creeps up her cheeks immediately, and thank god it's dark, otherwise Alex is going to immediately notice.

"...I thought you didn't like her," Kara manages to say after a moment, forcing the memory of the kiss to the back of her mind.

"I don't," is the blunt response. "But you do."

Kara doesn't deny it.

Then, a sigh from her sibling.

"She's important to you," Alex says simply, still tired. "And you needed to know she doesn't blame you."

There's a pause before her sister continues again, for a moment more serious and not sleepy. "I don't blame you too, you know."

A rush of affection floods her.

"I love you."

"I love you too." Alex sounds sleepy again. The antibiotics must be running it's course. "You owe me pancakes, Kara."

Kara laughs softly. "I'll get your favourite blueberry pancakes with chocolate for breakfast," she promises.

"You'd better."

And then Alex's asleep again.

For a long moment, Kara remains seated, listening to the beat of her sister's heart, letting it lull her into peace.

She lets a hand reach out to brush away a stray strand of hair.

"Thank you," she whispers, with gratitude and warmth both.

.

.

.

6.

There's no rest for the wicked.

Just a day after the kiss (and that is where their conversation had stopped, because Cat was tiring, and they had both needed space despite the many things they still needed to clear up with each other), another alien bent on humanity's destruction shows up.

They aren't even done finding the remains of Non's army yet.

Max works with them again, because, as much as Alex hates to admit it, he has resources that the DEO doesn't have.

He stands next to her now, and his arms are folded as he watches the large monitors.

"Did you know," he says to her, "that it is a common human trait to hate those you are most similar to?"

Kara doesn't look at him, but she does reply as she leaves. "Is it?" she asks. "But I'm not human, aren't I?"

"Which begs the theory that maybe it's a universal trait, isn't it?" he throws back.

She doesn't dignify that with a response.

.

.

.

7.

"Is it a custom of your people," Cat says in a bored voice when Kara strolls into the office with hands behind the back, "to kiss someone who forgives you and then disappear for a week?"

The media mogul hasn't looked up from the document she's scribbling on with a red pen, and because Kara's feeling a little reckless, topped with a rare dose of mischief, she does answer. "Yes, actually."

Cat actually pauses at that. Her boss looks up to stare at her over a pair of rimmed glasses, and juvenile glee is soaring in Kara's blood.

Kara knows she really shouldn't have provoked her boss, but the past week has left her in a state of exhaustion, her powers are just only beginning to return after she burned it out when grappling with that last alien threat, and she's just - _tired_.

"You are an imp," Cat decides after a moment, sounding bemused and _then_ far too nonchalant with the next two sentences. "Are you like this with every person you kissed? How many people _have_ you kissed?"

Just like that, the tables are turned again. She clears her throat, trying, very hard, to ignore the flush that she knows is on her cheeks. "I was hoping we could talk, Ms. Grant."

The corner of Cat's lip ticks up slightly. "Ms. Grant? Tell me, _Kara_ , do you call everyone you kiss by the surname?"

If it isn't for the fact that it's late, and that most of CatCo's employees (aside from the security) have left the premises, Kara is certain that Cat wouldn't be doing this right now where transparent glass panels is the only barrier to the bullpen.

As it is, Kara has a feeling her face is beet red right now.

"...Cat." There's both a plea and surrender in her voice, she knows. She shouldn't have forgotten how relentless Cat could be when she's bent on vengeance.

Cat just sniffs. "I always win, Kara."

That she knows.

"Please take a break?" she requests after a moment, eyes flicking down to the stomach hidden behind the table and clothes. Her boss really should still be resting, but of course Cat defies all odds by coming into the office today.

There's a flare of irritation and anger in those green eyes, aimed not at Kara, but at CatCo's employees. "If I didn't have incompetent employees," Cat says, "I could have."

"A few minutes?" Kara coaxes, stepping up to the table and nonchalantly upending an already open bag of M&Ms that she's been hiding behind her back into the empty glass bowl. "You have been in the office all day."

Cat's gaze flickers from the bowl to her.

"Do you really enjoy being my assistant that much?"

"You fired Lisa this morning."

There's a scowl on Cat's face. "Alice was incompetent. It was you rearranging most of the schedules while I was stuck under house arrest, wasn't it?"

Kara winces. "Y - yes, well, she was a little overwhelmed…" And Kara needed to keep herself busy.

Cat's index finger flicks up at her, as if saying, _case in point_.

Kara's reluctantly amused, even if she does feel sorry about the now-ex-assistant.

"And yes," Cat goes on to say then, green eyes calm and inscrutable again, "Five minutes." The red pen is pointed at the balcony.

There's an invisible lump forming in Kara's throat again, and she swallows. "Okay."

.

"You kissed me," Cat says as she steps onto the balcony, a glass of scotch in hand.

"...I, I did." Because what else could she say to that? Kara's eyes hones in on the drink warily from where she's leaning against the railings. "Ms. Grant, I think the doctor said no alcohol…?"

Mid-way lifting the glass, Cat pauses, and scowls at her over the beverage.

"Carter's flight home is tomorrow, isn't it?" she adds cautiously. "Do you want me to get you something else?"

Cat purses her lips. Then, with a huff, she passes it to Kara before settling on the couch. "Don't waste it. Sit."

Kara does, sitting opposite the other hesitantly and cupping the glass with both hands. She's also making a face at the drink.

Cat notices. "Not a fan of scotch?" is the simple question, and then green eyes is looking out the balcony to the dark sky and the stars beyond, one elbow propped on the armrest as the chin rests on a closed knuckle.

"Not really," Kara admits, tapping a finger against the glass restlessly. "There was an attack," she goes on to say, "that's why I wasn't around."

And she sort of got poisoned. And was fighting off an infection. Which culminated in her losing her powers and Alex demanding for her to be a non-powered version of an alien for the next few days.

"Hmm." Cat doesn't sound surprised. "Would it have anything to do with the explosion by the port that was reported two days ago?"

"Yes." It's so strange to be able to talk openly about this with her boss. "We figured out that it was weak to a particular bacteria in the seawater, of all things, so… "

"Ah."

Silence.

"Are you angry?" Kara blurts out, because Cat is so _quiet_ and it unnerves her.

Cat does roll her eyes at that. "No."

"T-then," she hesitates, eyes darting worriedly to the stomach where clothes has covered it, "are you feeling sick? Do you need a rest? Have you taken your antibiotics? I can call your driver and get you home and - "

"Kara."

Her mouth closes shut.

Cat has already turned to look at her again, and there's something like exasperation and amusement both in her eyes reserved for when Kara rambles.

"The stitches will go this Friday," Cat says. "The only thing that can land me in a hospital at this stage is an aneurysm caused by incompetent employees."

It's said so lightly, with a touch of amusement, but Kara doesn't see anything humorous about it. Her lips press together, and the grip she has on the glass tightens.

"That's not funny." Kara shifts a little, and it's like the girl of steel taking over when she speaks this time. "You almost died." _In my arms. With your blood on my hands._

The Kryptonian words on the wall, written with Cat's blood, that has since been cleaned - and Non, her uncle, family, _Non_ _who almost killed Cat and Alex_ , Non whose neck she wants to _snap_ -

"Kara."

She blinks.

Cat is - Cat's almost at the edge of her own seat, now, and she is gripping at Kara's wrists gently. Green eyes remain fixed on her, searching and warm and concerned.

"Kara," her name is said so quietly, so softly, that she suddenly realizes that her heart is thundering loudly in her chest. "You need to uncurl your hands."

She blinks again.

Kara looks down, and - oh. The glass she had been holding has been crushed, and tiny pieces of glass are clinking and falling to the floor where the scotch had spilled.

Oh.

Cat's thumbing at the inner side of her wrists gently. "Kara," the media mogul says again, in that indescribable way she has never heard before, only that it's soft, gentle, and a balm to her fury.

It makes her loosen up tense muscles enough to open her hands.

More broken pieces of glass drops to the floor with sharp clinks, and Cat turns her palms upward to inspect the damage. "You are hurt." There's small and big cuts littered all over Kara's palms that's tinted a dark red. "Why?"

Kara swallows. "I - " she stops, because that's when she realizes her jaw is clenched so tightly it's hard to speak, and she forces herself to unclench it. "I… I overused my powers. I'm not going to be able to do anything of the superpower variety for a few days."

Green eyes looks back up at her, and there's a myriad of things she can't read flickering in the depths of that gaze. "This will heal?"

The smallest of a nod is all she manages. "I just need rest. And the sun." A pause, and she continues. "Some of my powers are already back. Otherwise I - well, I'd be bleeding." She'd have literally crushed the glass in her hands and curled her hands into a very tight ball.

"Does it hurt?"

It does. Her palms are throbbing dully, and there are fiery stabs when she moves them even the slightest bit.

"I'll be fine in a few days."

A pause.

"Alright," Cat says then. Her wrists are squeezed gently, and then Cat is standing and going back into the office. "Sit at the couch by the end," Cat orders. "Away from the broken glass."

She does, after hesitating for a moment, moving gingerly past the glass pieces on the floor.

A moment later Cat is back, in her hands a first aid kit, a bottle of water, a towel, and a bowl.

Cat's not sitting opposite her, this time, but next to her.

"That's not really necessary," Kara protests, watching the items being placed on the table.

"You're as human as any of us are right now even if still stronger, Kara." The bottle is uncapped, and Cat's gesturing for her to place her hands above the bowl.

She does it obediently, and then Cat's pouring water over her hands, washing away alcohol and bits of glass.

"Does that sting?"

Just a bit. She's dealt with worse pain before, and they aren't of the physical variety. "It's - I'm fine."

"Hmm."

Her hands are dried with the soft towel, and then Cat is picking out little pieces of glass still stuck to her skin gently with a tweezer, and with such ease that it makes Kara wonder if it's something she's done before. For Carter, maybe?

The idea of it may sound farfetched to anyone who only knows Cat's public image, but, Kara knows just how much Cat loves her son. She would do _anything_ for him.

And the sight of Cat treating her wounds is easing something in her. Before she knows it, her heart is steady again.

"Do you need antiseptics on your cuts?" Cat asks after a moment, one hand hovering over a dark-colored bottle. Then, more curiously, "Does it even work on you?"

"...No. I don't need it." Her wounds heal too fast on their own to ever need anything like that, so perhaps it is more accurate to say she's never needed to experiment.

A nod; the hand changes directions and reaches for a roll of bandages.

Kara breathes in deeply.

"Ms. Grant - "

"Cat."

She blinks.

"You called me Cat earlier," her boss says, still with that nonchalant air, rolling bandages around Kara's left palm with steadfast hands. "So either stick with it or never do it again." A pause. "When we are in a private setting, of course."

Her lips twitches despite herself. Cat Grant always gives permissions in such roundabout ways.

The bandage is clipped neatly, perfectly even, and then Cat's reaching for her other hand and another roll of bandage.

And Kara can't resist asking. "How long have you known who I am?"

An elegant brow arches, though Cat doesn't look up from dressing her wound. "Who says I ever stopped suspecting you?"

"You stopped when you saw a double of me," Kara accuses.

"No, I didn't."

Kara just looks at her skeptically.

"Fine, yes, I did doubt myself," Cat concedes. "But that doesn't mean I stopped suspecting you."

Doesn't that mean Cat Grant had known from the start?

"- And you had a habit of conveniently disappearing when Supergirl is saving the city," Cat continues to tick off points. "Bizarro shows up, then the martian… and, oh. Do I need to mention this seemingly random blonde woman, who just so happens to be your foster mother, helping Supergirl prep for broadcasting during Myriad? Is that not proof enough?"

Kara's silent at that - and then Cat is done bandaging her palm. She watches the older blonde toss items back into the kit.

"But you didn't confront me about it," Kara says, eventually. Not after that first time where Cat threatened to fire her. "Until…" The kiss flashes in her mind again. "Until a week ago. Why? And why didn't you, when you figured it out?"

This is the heart of the matter.

She's being reckless again - she had been since the moment she caved and let herself kiss Cat with something approaching desperation and hunger - and Cat's just looking at her with that half frown and calculative edge softened by - by _something_.

She doesn't know what that means.

"You needed me to," Cat says simply. And then green eyes is turning away, back to the dark sky and beyond. "And," a soft, resigned sigh, "I owe you an apology for the second, Kara."

"I - " Kara doesn't even know which part to get clarifications about first. "What… what do you mean?"

"When I tried to fire you because of who you are and what you meant to this city," Cat says, calm and unreadable. "That was wrong of me to do."

She purses her lips, and can't deny that when Cat had threatened so, it didn't hurt. Because it did.

So, so much.

"Being my assistant is a demanding job," Cat says it like it is, "and you are already spending the day and night saving the world. It would have been selfish to keep you with me, to keep you from making this city safe. That's why I tried to let you go."

A pause, and something in that calm expression twists.

"I didn't consider what you needed until you told me you needed me." The barest of a brow knitting, a flicker of regret. "And even then, my plan to hire Siobhan to lighten your load didn't work as well as I wanted to, did it? You didn't react well to it. I didn't, either, when I tried to distance myself from you so that you could focus on things more important than me."

Kara does blink at that. "You did what?"

Then Cat seems to shrug, like they have been talking about just the weather. "As I said. That's also when you stopped trusting me, wasn't it?"

Something twists in her stomach like a stab of the truth, and she swallows. "Cat - "

"You needed me," Cat continues, face carved like stone and inscrutable as always, "but you no longer trusted me. Am I wrong?"

She can't deny it; all she could do is offer a wordless shake of head with how Cat is looking at her, calm green eyes demanding no lies and only the truth.

"Then you know why I let you play your charade."

She does.

She understands.

And she sees now, why Cat had chosen to finally confront her.

Mostly, it's because Kara's been behaving like a fool. She had been distancing herself, trying to process what Non had done, trying to not remember how close Cat and Alex had come to death, trying to not let her fury overwhelm her, trying to not let terror ruin her - she's just been trying, trying, and _trying_ without letting anyone help her because the person she's most angry with is _herself._

She wishes that she realized what Cat had tried to do. She wishes that she had known. Because then maybe they wouldn't have been tripping over each other. Cat Grant isn't perfect, even if she strives for it, and Kara?

Kara's definitely nowhere near perfect.

But she can feel the anger lurking in her stomach finally, finally subsiding, knots of tension across her shoulders finally untangling, and her mind, muddled as it was for the last few weeks, is finally clearing.

She breathes.

"I'm sorry," she can't help but say, throat dry. "I'm sorry I - I - "

"What are you even sorry for?" Cat says dismissively, looking away and standing up with a sigh. "It started with me, not you - " The sentence is cut short when Kara grasps at her wrist with a bandaged hand.

Green eyes flickers back to Kara.

She hesitates again, so very briefly, and then.

And then.

Kara's surging up as she tugs the wrist down, slanting lips over Cat's, feeling the hitch in the breath and swallowing it.

At first it seems like Cat's surprised into being frozen, but then fingers are curling around her face, thumbing at her cheek, and Kara's tongue is sliding in, tasting some remnants of scotch from when Cat had sipped at the alcohol before passing it to her -

And then Kara's shifting, pulling her in, making Cat climb over and rest a knee on the couch for balance, deepening the kiss.

After - well, not really after, yet, because when Cat shifts back, she follows, not quite willing to end it. It's not until Cat, breathless, forces herself to lean further away where she can't follow that it ends.

But Cat's also not pulling _away_ , per se - she's still hovering above her, still thumbing at her cheek, the other hand playing with the collar of her shirt, considering her gently, eyes searching for answers in her face.

There's indecision and something approaching vulnerability flickering in that gaze. "This is a bad idea, Kara."

She knows it is. Not just because Cat Grant is a public person and she is Supergirl, but also because - because if her enemies knows just how much of a weakness Cat Grant is to her? If they know just how far she would go for this one person?

If Cat knows just how much she can ruin her, one of the most powerful beings on this planet?

It's such a bad idea.

"Someone once told me," Kara says, braver and more reckless than she's ever dared to be, "that most of the decisions she made in her life was based on fear. I don't want her to make this choice based on that. I don't - " she stops, swallows, and continues. "I want to dare her to try."

Perhaps if Cat hadn't kissed her back that day and today, she wouldn't have dared to say it.

But Cat did, Cat had responded, and it's _everything_.

"I want you," Kara manages to say, because it's so, so true, and want is second only to _need_. She's been tired for weeks, too beaten down, too vulnerable, and she needs this constant to continue grounding her before - _before_.

There's a long moment where Cat just watches her, green eyes clear and bright, searching for something in the depths of Kara's gaze.

A gentle caress on her cheek.

Then, a nod.

"You have me."

It's said so simply, a far cry difference from how easily Cat grabs the attention of those who surrounds her with sharp words and a powerful presence.

The simplicity of those words doesn't just command power.

It conquers.

.

.

.

8.

And then, what remains of the war from her past that had carried into the present, onto Earth, is finally coming to an end.

Her ghosts are finally going to rest.

"Kara Zor-El."

"Non."

The transparent wall lined with kryptonite separates her from one of her last two remaining family members from Krypton.

Her uncle stares at her unflinchingly from where he's sitting on the bed, back straight, shoulders squared, hands pressed to the knees; still proud. Still powerful.

"The last of your army has been found and imprisoned," Kara tells him, calm and steady. Anger still coils in her stomach, but it's muted now. Controlled. Mild.

She no longer wants to reach across the panel to snap his neck.

Her uncle looks almost resigned, now, and he closes his eyes. "Then this planet will die."

"It won't," Kara says.

"Humans will be the cause of its death, child."

"No," she's firm now. "They won't."

His eyes opens to stare at her. "And how can you be sure of that?"

"Because I believe in them." She takes in a deep breath. "I believe that goodness will prevail, Uncle Non."

The gaze he levels her with is scrutinizing and unreadable.

A part of her wishes that she knows how to convince him.

"The day will come," he says, "when you have to choose between this planet and humanity. I look forward to seeing what choice you will make then, Kara Zor-El."

Her hands curls into fists. "It will never happen."

"We shall see."

.

.

.

9.

The world, this earth and its culture, is not always kind to them. They are not always kind to each other either. Their personalities clash at times; Kara gives and bends too easily, Cat demands and deflects too much.

They both recognize that there are things more important than themselves, things that demands their attention because of who they are, and sometimes, Kara's heart feels like it will break because of that.

But they try, they mend, they grow. And somehow it makes everything between them more vivid than she's ever imagined.

It makes them that much more real, and, one of these days, Kara is going to find the words to describe what she feels for Cat.

And she feels everything for her.

.

.

.

10.

There are gentle fingers caressing her cheek and brushing away stray strands of dark blonde hair.

"Kara," the soft voice - Cat's - says, seemingly far away and almost muted, "don't you think it's time to wake up?"

But her eyes remains stubbornly closed.

A soft sigh.

"Cat," another voice speaks, familiar enough that she can name who it is. It's Alex. "She will get better."

"She hasn't woken up in two weeks, Alex."

It's not hard to put the pieces together, after that. In Alex's own words, Kara had always been a self-sacrificing idiot.

So it's not hard at all, to guess what had happened.

Kara's mind grows even more active, with each passing day, as is her desire to wake, but her body refuses to budge.

She catches snippets of dialogues, sometimes.

One time it's this: "...You must be Cat. I'm Kara's cousin. Clark." Then, more softly, "I'm sorry I came too late. If I had… If I had."

Another time: "I told you, before, that you have me. Do I have you, Kara?"

The world isn't kind. It's unforgiving. Villains will always keep appearing, because where there is light, there is darkness. And sometimes, the darkness will get the better of the light.

The clock continues to wind, and each day, without fail, there is the lightest of a touch on her cheek, a warm brush of lips against her knuckle.

"You know," Alex says from somewhere on her left side, "I didn't know what to make of you. But I do now. My sister's important to you, isn't she?"

There's a long moment before Cat speaks, and when she does, it's a simple answer.

"Yes."

It's said so softly, with so many things carved into that one word, and with a multitude of pain like something is being scraped raw to the bone.

Her finger twitches involuntarily, at that.

Two days after, Kara wakes.

Eyes of electric blue opens and stares at the white ceiling.

Her mind fuzzes over, for a few minutes. The room is empty save for her, and past the open window, the sky is dark and the stars are bright.

She sits up, slowly.

And then she's moving.

Kara's shaky on her feet, and her muscles are protesting from lack of usage, but they don't bother her the way they would have bothered an ordinary human.

There's clothes in the side cabinet, _her_ clothes - and she wonders, for a second, how long they had been there - but she doesn't waste time.

She cleans up, in the attached bathroom, and dresses. Sneakers, jeans, shirt, pink coat.

Briefly she considers the open window and the dark night, if she's strong enough to fly. If she should really risk it. Then she remembers the white and red cap that's been tucked into the cabinet alongside her clothes. By Clark, probably, who may have wanted a little part of him by her side if he couldn't be.

It makes her smile.

So she picks it up, makes sure it hides her hair, and flies.

The wind is cold on her skin, the air is fresh, and the stars in the night sky is bright.

There is something exhilarating, about being able to fly. And she's missed this. She doesn't know why or how she knows she missed this, but she does, and the elation that soars in her veins makes her fling her arms wide open.

This is what happens next:

Astonished green eyes, staring up at her as she floats mid-air, then closer, until her shoes taps lightly on the balcony floor.

And.

"Kara." The barest of a whisper.

Her hands lift, one to touch lightly at the cheek, the other lifting Cat's hand to brush a kiss against the knuckle -

Recognition flickers in those stunned green eyes. "You felt that."

"I did." Kara's voice is rough from disuse. She presses Cat's hand to her chest, where her heart beats, pulling the other one step closer. "It helped me wake up."

Cat's hand is shaking, there's a raw shudder in her breath, and those brilliant green eyes shuts briefly before opening to glare at her.

The stars glitter bright and sharp in that gaze.

"You woke up." Icy words.

She nods.

"You woke up," Cat repeats, "you saved the world, then you almost died, then you were comatose for _weeks_ , then, when you woke up, you flew _here_ in that totally noticeable pink coat and horribly non-matching cap."

Cat tugs at the hat, letting it drop to the couch, and Kara's blonde hair spills past her shoulders.

She nods again.

"I'm going to burn that coat of yours."

She almost nods, but stops, and then she blinks. "I like this coat," she protests.

Cat huffs. "Then you shouldn't have flown here wearing _that_."

She squeezes the hand she's holding to her chest. "Cat?"

"What?"

"You have me."

A hitch in the breath.

Then Kara shuffles, a little, a moment of insecurity washing over her. How long had she been asleep? She doesn't know, and that scares her. "Do I… do you still want me?" _Do I still have you?_

There's a minute pause.

"Yes."

In all likelihood, this isn't going to be the only time when Kara will go so far to save the world that she almost dies. There will be more. And the look on Cat's face tells her that the older woman knows it.

It's not fair to Cat; it will never be.

This is how Kara knows she will spend a lifetime giving her everything she could possibly give.

"And you have me, Kara."

They try again.

. . . .

. . .

. .

.

A/N: Major, major thanks to _godlynyancat2781_ from tumblr for helping to beta this.

Writing this was a bit of an adrenaline rush. But in a good way.

I hope I did Kara justice. Because she's like an onion. A really _intense_ onion. And this song, Try by Tyler Ward. I think this song is literal perfection, for these two.

While I first started writing this because I couldn't get the scene where Kara crushed a glass in her hands out of my head, I actually didn't see it going where it… did.

The last scene, especially. I must have scrapped it like three or four times, but for some reason I kept getting drawn back to it. There's just something about it that I couldn't let go of. God knows I tried writing a few other epilogue scenes and couldn't do more than a few lines. So, I hope it's, well. I hope it works. I know it's a bit of an unorthodox epilogue.

And maybe I wanted to bring a little more focus to Cat with the last scene as well. We didn't get to see much of what Cat's thinking - but she's definitely a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. All the unsaid things that would've required writing from her POV that would no doubt be very challenging.

Side note - I really hope I remembered the color of Clark's cap correctly. God knows it's been a decade (or two) since I saw it on either a comic, cartoon, or tv.

Comments, criticisms, all would be highly appreciated, here or on my tumblr - iriesis. And thank you, for taking the time to read this story. I hope you've enjoyed it!


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